The Heir
by Tortuosus
Summary: The dark lord has had an idea. He wishes to have a son. There is a way, a spell, but who will be chosen to bear his child? Perhaps the last person you'd expect.


The Heir  
  


Chapter One: Letting Go (That which does not kill us...)   
  


The Dark Lord paced his lair. A strange idea had been put into his head during the night, and he couldn't get it out. His servants were growing in number, steadily. He could feel the power, the ultimate power, it was at his fingertips. But he wasn't there yet. He needed something more... something to complete his legacy... he needed an heir.   
  


It would be simple to name one. Choose a faithful servant and give him honour beyond all others. But- that servant- even if he could be trusted- he would be his own person. He would have his own ideas. No, he needed something- someone- who came from himself. Who came from himself, but would bow to his authority. His heir... his son.  
  


*

Hermione lay quiet in the Weasleys' hammock, faced away. Ron sat on the picnic table, head supported by his clenched hands. Harry was looking up at the trees surrounding the Weasleys' little pond, wondering where their sereneness fit into this new world. The air was solemn, as it was more often than not, these days.  
  


Molly Weasley stood watching the trio from her kitchen window. "Poor little tykes." she sighed, pointing her wand at the sink. No matter what was going on in the wizarding world, there was still dishes to be done. "I hate to see them so downcast and serious."  
  


"This latest attack was bad news, Molly." Arthur Weasley said, without looking up from the Daily Prophet. The front page screamed the news: 8 killed in Bloomsvale- worst attack yet! "5 of those killed were only children- younger than them. And this comes less than two weeks after the last- it's starting to escalate."  
  


"I thought these times were over!"Molly said violently. "I thought You-Know-Who was killed when Harry was a baby!"

"We told ourselves that, Molly, but no one ever really knew. And you know Harry has met him face-to-face several times since then. He's back, and he wants power more than anything. And he's getting it- through fear."  
  


"They're only children! They shouldn't have to deal with all this! It shouldn't be on their shoulders!"

"Ron turned 17 in April, Molly. He's of age, and soon Harry and Hermione will be too. They've just had to grow up a lot faster than most." Arthur sighed. "There's nothing we can do about it, Molly. We'll never really know what they went through in You-Know-Who's lair in June, but it was a terrible thing. We just have to be there for them, if they need us."

"Exactly. If they need us." Molly turned again to the window. "Sometimes I think they've been through so much- more than we could ever help them with."  
  


*

Harry walked over to sit with Ron. "I think she's asleep." he said, nodding to Hermione.   
  


"That's all she's done since June." Ron replied. "That's all she ever does."

"Can you blame her?"

"She told me before all this happened that she wasn't really in love with him. She just didn't know how to break it to him."

"But she cared about him, Ron. I think she didn't even realize how much until he was- dead." 

"Well, that's Hermione for you."

"Ron."

"I know. It's just-" Ron looked over their friend's still form. "I was there, too, remember? I saw it happen. But I couldn't do anything about it. You-Know-Who was going to kill her, and there was nothing I could do." He looked away, hiding his face from Harry.

"Hey, man, it's okay." Harry said awkwardly. Hermione wasn't the only one who had realized just how much she cared about someone, that crucial moment in June. Ron had been fighting internal battles ever since. "I was with you, remember? I couldn't do anything either. It was up to Viktor."

"If it weren't for him, she'd be dead." Ron said dully. Harry nodded. The thought had crossed his mind, too, more than once.

Hermione wasn't asleep. She never was. The blow that had taken the life out of Viktor had essentially done the same to her. If it weren't for me, he'd be alive. she thought. She couldn't have moved if she wanted to. She had no energy. She had no reason to. Viktor had loved her. Viktor had done everything he could for her- right down to that last sacrifice. And she had never really given him what he deserved- her love in return. She had been heartless, cold. And now a fine young man and a wonderful person was gone forever. Because of her.   
  


*

"I have had an idea."

"And what is that, oh lord?" the woman with the shrouded eyes bowed.

"An idea that has been growing in my mind, and you are the only one who can help me."

"Anything, my lord."

"I wish to have a son."

The woman looked up suddenly. "You want me to-"

"Don't be absurd." the dark lord snapped, his cloak snapping with him as he strode towards the fireplace. "You know all the most ancient of arts. More than I- though I admit this grudgingly. Is there a way- is there a spell, a potion?"

The woman looked searchingly up at his burning eyes. She was one of the few who dared look him in the face, and he admired her for the bravado. It was why she was so elevated in his ranks. She turned and closed her eyes. The woman had a deep mind, a mine of information. She was searching through it. 

"Orcus Cruor." she said without opening those heavy eyelids. The words struck a chord in the lord's vast memory. 

"Yes..." he hissed. "Birth by blood... a complicated matter..."

"Not much more complicated than the spell that brought you back to the living, o lord."

"No?" the dark lord said. "Then we will do it. Come." He turned and strode towards the passageway. "We will make our plans."  
  


*

"Post!" 

The Weasleys and Harry looked up from breakfast to see what Errol had in store for them. The Daily Prophet was caught by Arthur and a letter by Percy Weasley, presumably from his fiancé, Penny. Ginny caught Errol. One more letter floated down to rest in Hermione's cereal, which she hadn't really touched.  
  


"What's that, Hermione?" asked Ron.

She mechanically picked up the now-soggy letter, flicked off a few bran flakes and tore open the envelope. Her eyes scanned the page. "It's from my parents."

Molly Weasley stopped chewing. "What do they say, dear?"

Hermione and Harry both had been staying at the Weasley's Burrow since school had ended in June. Professor Dumbledore had felt it best that they and Ron not be separated so soon after their ordeal in the dark lord's lair, despite worries that Hermione should not be living in the wizarding world in her situation, being of Muggle-birth. Hermione's parents knew nothing of their daughter's time in the lair or just how bad things really were in the wizarding world. Harry knew that if they did, they'd have Hermione out of Hogwarts and away from all traces of magic before you could say "mudblood". As for himself, the Dursleys' really couldn't care less. He didn't think they even knew where he was this summer.

Hermione stared blankly at the letter in her hand. "I- I have to go." she stammered, and fled the kitchen. Harry and Ron looked at each other and followed.

They found her in Ginny's bedroom, where she was sleeping this summer. She was sitting on Ginny's bed, the letter in her hand, looking dazed. Harry took a cautious step into the room. 

"Hermione? Is everything alright?"

She looked up without seeing, shaking her head. "They know, they know!" She held a paper in each hand, and waved them in Harry's face. "I didn't want them to know, I didn't want them to worry! They'll never let me go back to school now! They're making me leave!"

"Leave!" Ron said, stepping forward. "You're leaving?"

"How did they find out?" Harry asked quietly. 

"The Krums- Viktor's parents- they wrote me at my parents. My parents read the letter. They sent it, along with their own little note." Hermione flopped onto the bed and buried her face in the pillow. "Why did they have to know? Why did it have to happen? Why, Viktor? Why didn't you just let me die?"

"Don't talk like that, Hermione." Harry said forcefully. He didn't know how to help her. He'd been there when Viktor had sacrificed his life for Hermione's, and had felt a thousand things, but had no way of knowing what she was going through. Tremendous guilt. She was blaming herself.

"Hermione-" Ron said, hesitantly. "Hermione- Viktor loved you." Hermione stopped moaning and fell silent. "He saved your life- because he wanted you to live. To live, Hermione, he knew that you have so much left to do! He knew-" Ron's voice cracked a little. He spoke as though to himself. "He knew we needed you."

Harry was astounded at the maturity and wisdom Ron was showing. He had found the right words, when no one else could. He had said exactly what needed to be said- what Hermione needed to hear.

Hermione raised her head, slowly, staring at the pillow. "He saved my life... so I could live..." Harry could see she'd never looked at it that way before. She sat up and looked at Ron. "You need me?"

Ron's moment was over, obviously, because he turned red and started stammering. "Of course we do, Hermione." Harry said. "Where would we be without you?" He sat down beside her and squeezed her shoulders. She smiled- it was faint, but it was there. He could see a glimmer of the old Hermione- she had begun to heal.

Hermione suddenly remembered the letter she still held. "Oh, but it doesn't matter- my parents are making me go home! They'll never let me go back to Hogwarts now that they know about my kidnapping- what use can I be from some Muggle boarding school?"

"They can't keep you away from Hogwarts!" Ron exclaimed.

"And why not?" Hermione replied. 

"Surely we can reason with them." Harry said. 

"You don't know my parents. They're Muggles. And they're worried. They don't understand about You-Know-Who and the rest. They don't understand that he only kidnapped me to lure you into a trap, Harry. They probably figure he's after me."

"And they figure he can't find you in Muggleland?" Ron said.

"They figure it's safer than me being here- but they're really putting themselves in danger. But there's no way I can convince them of that!"

Harry didn't want to say it, but he did. "Maybe- maybe they have a point- maybe you should stay in the Muggle world for a little while- at least for the summer-"

"Harry!" Hermione leapt up from the bed, a far cry from the listless personality she'd been only yesterday. "Do you honestly think I would willingly go run and hide while my friends may be in danger? Do you think that's the kind of person I am? Maybe you don't really need me as much as you say! Do you want me to leave?"

"No, Hermione- that's not- I only-" Harry stuttered.

"I don't care!" she exclaimed, turned and stalked out of the room. 

"Way to go, Harry." Ron said.

"Arg! I'm only trying to protect her!" Harry said.

Ron shrugged. "Maybe she doesn't want your protection, Harry. Maybe you've protected her enough." He got up and left as well. 

Harry fell back on Ginny's bed. What was with Ron and his amazing revelations? And why did he have to be so right?

"Harry? What are you doing on my bed?"  
  


*

"No child can be born from one person alone. It takes... ingredients- genetic information, that is- from two parents, and the unborn child must be carried inside a female's womb- this cannot be altered through any spell or incantation yet invented."

"So- we need a female." the dark lord said, contemplating.

"Yes." the woman replied guardedly. They weren't plentiful in the dark lord's ranks, and she was aware that she herself would be a logical choice. The mother of the dark lord's heir- it would give her status beyond all others, but did she want it? But one could never predict the dark lord's logic. He wasn't saying anything, so she continued. "With Orcus Cruor, the vital ingredient from each parent is blood. That is enough- though more is required from the female chosen to carry the child."

"How long will this take to set in place?"

"A little over a month."

"Very well." The dark lord stood. "We will take this path. I will choose a female. Make the necessary preparations. We begin as soon as possible."  
  


*

Hermione felt the wind- it was cold for July, and froze the tear-paths on her cheeks. The day was overcast and dreary, chill. Like everything else.   
  


She leaned back against a sturdy oak, near the far bank of the Weasley pond. Viktor had saved her life so she could live- well, living, in her opinion, was not running to her parents, hiding while everyone else suffered. She no longer blamed herself for Viktor's death- she placed it where it belonged. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He was nothing more than a murderer, a coward, hiding behind a killing spell. He did nothing but bring misery to the wizarding world. She would not run- she would fight him. 

Her fingers still clutched the letter- the letter from Viktor's parents. She unfolded it with shaking hands and read it again.  
  


Dear Hermione, 

You are probably surprised to hear from us. You probably think that we blame you for the terrible things that have occurred this past year. To be honest, at first, we did. Our son was dead, and you were alive. It didn't seem fair. This note is hard to write, but write it we must. Viktor loved you very much- you meant more to him than even his Quidditch. Had he been a coward and left you to die, it would have ruined him forever. Our son died a hero, and we are proud of him We just want you to know that we do not blame you for what has happened. You-Know-Who kidnapped you, he tried to kill you, he held the wand that killed our son. Everything happens for a reason- you still have a purpose to fulfill- that is why you were spared. May you be blessed, and best of luck wherever this life leads you.

Sincerely yours,

Hugo and Helga Krum  
  


They were wonderful people, the Krums. And they were right- she must have some purpose left to fulfill. She was sure it was not going to be fulfilled if she ran and hid. What was she to do? 

"Hermione!" 

Hermione looked round. "Ron!"

Ron ran up, panting. "Merlin's beard, you really know how to disappear."

"I just needed to be alone for awhile, that's all."

"Oh- well, I could leave-"

"No, no, stay. It's okay." Hermione managed a smile.

Ron leaned against the oak to catch his breath. "You know," he began. "Harry didn't mean that he wanted you to leave when he said-"

"I know, I know. He's just worried about me." She kicked absent mindedly at a mushroom in the ground. "I wish- I wish everyone would stop worrying about me!"

"Well- it's kind of hard not to sometimes." 

Hermione whirled to look at Ron, but he was smiling. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"Always getting yourself into trouble..." Ron heaved a great sigh and shook his head. "Breaking rules..."

"Ron! Really."

"Really? Hermione, you were missing for a month before we even found out what had happened to you, where you were. You don't think we were worried?"

Hermione fell silent. Those months held in captive, in the dark lord's lair- she'd tried to block them out. She'd focussed instead on how they ended- with Viktor's death. Now memories, unwanted memories came- the immeasurable pain of the Crucio curse. Time and time again being forced to do things she could not control, through Imperio. How days ran into weeks and weeks into months... it all became a blur. Conversations with the dark lord- he wanted her alive, at least until Harry got there. She'd been his dinner guest on more than one occasion. She'd only caught a glimpse of that dark mind- she shuddered to think of what lay beyond. How, in the end, she'd given up all hope. How she thought she had been deserted, even by her friends.

Ron watched the emotions cloud Hermione's eyes and saw her hands begin to shake. He could only imagine what had gone on during her time in the lair. She had never told them. "Hermione?"

Hermione closed her eyes and drew a shaky breath. "I was scared at first... but after a while I wasn't afraid anymore. What could be worse? Certainly not death. I wished he would just kill me. What was he waiting for? I didn't think you were coming. It was so long..."

She looked like she was going to fall over. Ron grabbed her shoulders. "Hermione?"

"So long...."

"Hermione!" Ron pulled her into him and held her, hard. "I'm sorry we took so long, Hermione... I'm sorry we left you in that monster's hands- I'm sorry we couldn't figure out the puzzle sooner. Oh, Hermione, I'm so sorry."

Hermione began to cry. Ron, who was blinking rather rapidly himself, stroked her head and whispered comforting things like "It's okay, it's okay." After a while, Hermione's sniffling subsided and she pulled back. "I don't blame you, Ron. You-Know-Who played mind games with me, made me despair that you'd never come- while all the time he was counting on it. I just wish I didn't have the memories." she went over to sit at the edge of the pond, tucking her legs in close to her body. 

Ron watched her profile. Sad, but strong. The worst moments of his young life had been watching, helpless, as she was about to die. The feelings he'd been ignoring for years had finally surfaced. He cared for Hermione Granger much, much more than he was willing to admit. 

"I guess we all have things we wished had never happened." she said now. 

"Yes," he said slowly. "But everything that does- makes us stronger."

She looked up at him, and smiled.


End file.
